


our writing on the wall was 'lorem ipsum' after all

by harpydora



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 23:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4765460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harpydora/pseuds/harpydora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We got another problem," he said. "That bike is only made for one." </p>
<p>Blue chose to point out neither the fact that it only posed a problem because he chose to "take her away," nor the fact that Noah's normal mode of getting around seemed to be ethereal teleportation. "You aren't too good at this whole 'kidnapping' me for my birthday thing, are you?" she teased. </p>
<p>(<em>Or that one time Noah thought it was criminal that no one bought Blue gelato for her birthday.</em>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	our writing on the wall was 'lorem ipsum' after all

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbeta'd, self-indulgent fluff. Noah and Blue are precious children who must be protected at all costs. Technically takes place after _Blue Lily, Lily Blue_ , but no specific spoilers.

Noah appeared next to her, his cold fingers sliding around hers and squeezing them as if he had been been there all along. As if it were something he did all the time. He bent down so that his lips hovered a hairsbreadth above her ear. Blue shivered despite the heat of the dying summer sun. 

"I'm taking you away from this place," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Are you now," said Blue, fighting to keep her voice even. She and Noah had always demonstrated a flagrant disregard for each other's personal space, but this felt downright intimate in a way that all their previous casual contact had not. "And what, pray tell, do you plan to do with me once you've done that?" 

"I am taking you downtown," Noah replied, still keeping his voice low and secretive. The hand that wasn't holding hers came up to pet her hair. "When we get there, I am going to take you to my favorite ice cream shop and buy you as much gelato as you can stand. In every flavor you like."

Blue's eyebrows shot up, and she felt the first prickles of a blush rising to her cheeks. Gelato. She remembered him saying something about it before he'd gone all crazy in the counselor's office, but she hadn't expected he would, too. In the wake of all the sadness and the anxiety and the strangeness of the past few weeks, the fact that Noah still wanted to make a big deal about her birthday was so touching that it threatened to slice Blue open right there on the steps of her school. 

Rather than say any of this aloud, Blue took the sensible route. "I'm pretty sure I haven't seen you get a job in the past couple of weeks, so how are we going to pay for this gelato spree?" 

Noah snorted, his breath cool against the side of her face. "C'mon, Blue, I know you know how credit cards work." To punctuate his statement, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. When he waved it in front of her face, she thought she caught part of the cardholder's name: Lynch. Blue turned to face him. 

"No _ah,_ " she said, words stern. "Where did you get that?" 

"What? Ronan owes me," he said petulantly. His expression was mostly sullen, but the impish twinkle in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth kept trying to turn up gave away his ruse. "He threw me out the window." 

The desire to know more scuffled briefly with the firm knowledge that _no, she really did not want to know,_ but Blue couldn't stop herself from giggling. "Okay," she said. "I will let Ronan pay you back by footing the bill for our extravagant outing." 

"What if it was an ostentatious outing?" Noah asked with a shy smile. 

"I dunno... I don't think I'm dressed for 'ostentatious.'" Blue's smile matched his as she gestured to her layered patchwork skirts and oversized tunic. Her face wasn't far from his own, and he still hadn't straightened up from where he bent down to whisper into her ear. His nose was nearly level with hers, and she felt nearly overwhelmed by the absurd desire to plant a gentle peck right on the tip of it. 

As if reacting to her thoughts, Noah's face grew suddenly quite serious. His smile fell away, and Blue held her breath and felt so foolish. After a moment, he asked, "What about 'lovely' or 'pleasant' or 'fun?' Because I want this outing to be all three of those things, if I can manage it." 

"I think that would be grand," she said. "Let's go." 

It was only when Blue went to unlock her bike that she realized Noah's fingers were still snaked around hers, and she did not have the heart to disentangle them now. He was perceptive enough to pick up on why she'd paused, though, and the next few minutes saw them huddling over her bike lock together while they each contributed their free hands to trying to open it. It was like some weird reverse three-legged race, except it was more like two-and-a-half-armed grand theft bicycle. They collapsed on the concrete in a giggling heap when the lock proved too much for their severe lack of coordination. 

"We'll never get anywhere like this," lamented Noah fondly. His nose was buried in the hair at the base of Blue's neck and the remains of his laughter cooled her skin. 

At length, Blue extricated her fingers from Noah's. She ignored the bereft noise he made and used both of her hands to free her bicycle from the school's bike rack. She pulled herself up to her feet and offered Noah her hand again. He took it, using her to get back to his feet as well. 

"We got another problem," he said. "That bike is only made for one." 

Blue chose to point out neither the fact that it only posed a problem because he chose to "take her away," nor the fact that Noah's normal mode of getting around seemed to be ethereal teleportation. "You aren't too good at this whole 'kidnapping' me for my birthday thing, are you?" she teased. 

Noah was so plainly unrepentant, but he at least had the good graces to duck his head and flush a little in response. "I don't make Ronan buy birthday gelato for just _anyone,_ you know." Which was to say that he didn't have a lot of practice at this. Quickly, quietly, he added, "It's only you." 

Blue's heart did some kind of lurching maneuver behind her breastbone that left her feeling exposed and a little breathless. She swallowed hard, cleared her throat. "Well, I guess I ought to be a more cooperative guest, then." 

* 

They made it to the ice cream shop with Noah perched precariously on the seat and Blue standing to pedal. He kept his legs sticking out so his feet didn't drag on the ground, and his hands hovered around Blue's waist as if he were afraid she would fall. Gamely, he wore Blue's school bag over one shoulder so she wouldn't have to worry about smacking him in the face as she pedaled. The shop didn't have a bike rack of its own, so Blue hitched her ride to a nearby lamp post instead. 

Noah adjusted the weight of her bag on his shoulder then snagged Blue's hand with both of his. He cradled it between his hands before pulling it up to his face and rubbing his cool cheeks over her knuckles like an affectionate kitten. His lips brushed over her skin in something that wasn't quite a kiss but was too intimate to be an accident. 

Blue went very, very still, and Noah's eyes met hers. The smudge on his cheek was nearly imperceptible, but it was trivial to reach out with one finger and trace it's outline. He jumped a little at the touch but kept his gaze locked on her. His eyes were almost pleading, _is this okay?_ and _please, let this be okay_ and _don't be sad_ in equal measures. She'd told him she would say "okay" if he were alive, but she realized how absolutely useless that qualifier had been. Her insides knotted up and tangled as she looked at him, so plaintive and so Noah. She said the only thing she conceivably could say just then: "Okay." 

It was like the sun broke through a thick cloud cover and shined just for Noah. His edges grew so distinct that Blue could make out the little balls of lint that had pilled up on his Aglionby sweater. He grinned wide. "Okay," he echoed.

He tugged on her arm, leading her inside the shop. Noah's favorite ice cream shop, as it turned out, was _not_ Harry's, where Gansey had bought them all gelato what felt like a lifetime ago. This place was a little further off the main drag, and Blue found herself wondering how in the world a town like Henrietta could support _two_ places that specialized in fancy gelato. It had an old-timey sign dangling above the door like a lot of establishments in Henrietta's historic downtown, and some sleigh bells were mounted on the door so they jingled when Blue and her ghost captor pushed through. The interior was something straight out of the 1950s, complete with checker board tile floors and shiny chrome trim everywhere. He led her to a generous booth with freshly upholstered benches done in stripes of red and cream vinyl. 

Blue slid into the booth and Noah flopped down beside her. His knee bumped hers and he draped one arm I across her shoulders. It didn't quite feel _natural,_ but it felt something close to _right._ She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and grabbed one of the menus stuck between the napkin dispenser and the wall. 

"All right, what's good here?" she asked. Her eyes scanned the menu; it was one page, laminated, and comprised of a handful of flavors and toppings. A note at the bottom encouraged her to ask about the fresh daily flavors.

Noah leaned close so he could read Blue's menu rather than grab one of his own. "Aw, they changed their steady flavors since I was here last," he said without any real sense of disappointment to his words. "I guess we'll just have to try something new. They've got a birthday cake flavor now." He flashed her the most angelic grin. "Start off with one scoop?" 

"Sure," she agreed, but she wasn't fooled by his innocent act for one second. Noah pressed his cheek close to hers (almost exactly the same way Gansey had, and that thought made her stomach roll) before hopping up and practically skipping up to the counter. She watched him place her order out of the corner of her eye (the person behind the counter seemed to have no problems seeing him or taking his order and Ronan's money, thankfully) while she tried so desperately to keep her heart from hammering its way out of her chest. 

Did Noah know? About what tended to happen when she and he Gansey were by themselves? He had certainly said and done stranger things since she had known him, but the thought that Noah knew about their not-quite-kissing and was still doing all this... She wasn't quite sure how to feel about that possibility, so she put it out of her mind. 

By the time he returned with her single scoop of gelato, her breathing was even again. He held a single spoon, which he pressed into Blue's palm. "Go on, tell me what you think," he said. The bench made a strained squeak as he practically flung himself back down in his spot at Blue's side. His bony hip knocked into hers.

Blue eyed the scoop of gelato suspiciously. It looked like there were sprinkles mixed in, and a single blue birthday candle stuck up, unlit. She plucked the candle out and sucked the sticky sweet confection off of it. There wasn't much, but she could tell that it was cloyingly sweet and didn't really taste much like a birthday cake at all.

Noah's eyes were on her face, watching for her reaction. He was, it seemed, keenly interested in how Blue decided she felt about birthday cake flavored gelato. With one hand, Blue carved a bit of the gelato off with the spoon Noah had given her. The other slipped the birthday candle behind one of his ears like the stub of a well-used pencil.

Using the spoon didn't make the flavor any more cake-like, but it meant Blue got mouthful of sprinkles. They didn't improve the taste either, but it did help her understand why Noah liked the stuff. It was thicker than ice cream, and so much sweeter. Too sweet, if she was being honest, but the way Noah kept gazing expectantly at her made her not want to say that. "I can see why gelato's your favorite," she hedged.

"All right!" whooped Noah, taking her words for approval. He snagged the spoon from her fingers, loaded it up with gelato, and waved it under his own nose. His eyes drifted closed as he inhaled the scent.

"Can ghosts even eat?" Blue asked suddenly. She'd certainly never seen Noah ingest anything willingly, and up until this moment, she hadn't seen him take much interest in food in general. As often as Noah did things to remind her that he wasn't truly alive, Blue still had a difficult time always remembering that he was certainly dead. 

Noah shook his head. "I tried it a couple of times. It's pretty gross. But I remember things, and that makes me miss it sometimes."

He held the spoon out to Blue, but rather than take it from him, she just learned forward and sucked the gelato off it while Noah still held it. In retrospect, it was not the most clever thing Blue had done, because Noah decided that meant he ought to feed her the rest of the confection himself. More of it ended up on her nose and chin than was appropriate for anyone of their ages. By the time the dessert had been-- well, "eaten" was too strong a word-- even Noah had managed to get some of it on one cheek. 

They were already sitting hip-to-hip, shoulder-to-shoulder and laughing breathlessly. Maybe she would never see the appeal of gelato, but she felt lighter than she'd been in ages. Noah's expression had taken on that uncertain pleading look again, but this time, Blue didn't know what to say. They were so close and their situation was just so ridiculous (seriously, there's got to be a sitcom somewhere about a ghost-boy and a mirror-girl making a mess at an ice cream shop) so she did the first thing that comes to mind. She leaned forward, quick as a whip, and licked the smear of gelato off Noah's face.

When Noah tumbles backwards out of the booth, Blue can't do anything but laugh.

*

Since it was fairly clear that any further attempts at desserts were going to end in hilarity, Blue made the executive decision to vacate the establishment before the establishment evicted them. She couldn't look at Noah's still vaguely shocked face for more than two seconds without collapsing in a fit of giggles again, so she stubbornly avoided looking at him until they were next to her bike.

"You've still got some on your face," Noah finally informed her.

"It'll wash off," she replied with a shrug. She turned back to find Noah standing close enough to touch her with that oddly thoughtful look on his face again. He rested his forehead against hers, his skin so cool and comforting, his eyes so full of all sorts of thoughts. Blue could see them running through his head (it didn't take a psychic to see that), but she couldn't help thinking that she might be able to understand them if she'd been born with just a smidgen of her mother's abilities. "What's wrong?"

"I'd like to kiss you again," he said bleakly. "Not just once, and not just because it's your birthday. I want to kiss you a million times just because you're you. But I know..." He trailed off, either unwilling or unable to put words around what he was trying to say. Blue could guess, though, because the silence that followed had the exact shape of Richard Campbell Gansey III and the exact weight of the bones she and the others had buried outside the old ruined church.

Of all the things in the world Blue had been angry at in the past few weeks, she thought at that moment that the concept of true love was the worst. It was like a deeply venomous insect intent on spoiling most of the good things in her life. It was so wrong that she couldn't kiss the person she wanted to kiss most, and it was just as wrong that the person she _could_ kiss was dead. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. She wanted to yell, _Just because you aren't Gansey doesn't mean I don't love you!_ , but she couldn't force the words out of her throat. She felt her eyes stinging with hot, furious tears, so she screwed them shut.

Noah's cool thumbs wiped the tears away before they had a chance to roll down her cheeks, and the similarity to the vision she had in the tree stabbed her in the gut. The tears came in earnest: fat and burning and accompanied by wracking sobs. She sank to her knees, taking Noah with her. At some point, her arms had slithered around his ribcage and she balled up her fists in the nearly-real knit fabric of his Aglionby sweater. If he'd been alive, she probably would've squeezed the air out of him with how tightly she held on.

With her face crushed against his chest, it was impossible for Noah to keep his fingers where they could wipe away her tears. Instead, he looped his arms loosely around her shoulders and rubbed soothing circles over her back. "I'm sorry, Blue," he whispered. "Please don't cry." It was a lost cause, though, and a distant part of Blue guessed that he knew it because he just started to hum an indistinct tune into the top of her head while he held her. The levees that had held back the mounting sadness had finally broken, and there was no stopping the flood.

By the time the tears had dried up, Blue felt hollowed out and shriveled. She had no way to know how long they'd been sitting on the rough sidewalk next to her bike, but it felt like a combination of forever and not long at all. She released her death-grip on Noah's sweater and straightened up. Her eyes felt gritty and her face felt like it was a thin veneer of skin stretched over a giant ball of snot. She scrubbed at her nose with the back of her arm. "Sorry," she croaked.

"I'm not really so good at this whole 'showing you a good time' thing,'" said Noah.

"No," said Blue, "I'm just not good at having a good time right now."

"We can stop," he offered. "I'll walk you home."

Blue shook her head vehemently. "No. I still want to hang out with you. I'm just going to look a little... puffy." She wanted to add something, to tell him that she'd like it if he kissed her again, but the words stuck in her chest. So she just scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms to clear them. When she opened her eyes again, Noah was staring at her. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was searching her face for something.

The moment passed when Noah hopped to his feet and extended both of his hands down toward her. "Okay. Come on."

She accepted his help in standing, then smoothed out her layered skirts and adjusted her top so it wasn't sliding off one of her shoulders anymore. She unlocked her bike and pulled it away from the lamp post. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," said Noah as he slung one leg over the bike and settled on the seat. "We'll figure it out when we get there."


End file.
